


Phrasing

by intoapuddle



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2013 Era (Phandom), Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 12:32:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19107166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoapuddle/pseuds/intoapuddle
Summary: Phil knows a few of Dan’s sour moods. He has learned by now that his face turns neutral when he is feeling the weight of the world. He has learned that Dan goes from shrieking laughter to loud anger in mere seconds when he feels unfulfilled or stressed out. He has learned that after a day of new people and places, Dan gets moody and needs his space to recoup.This type of anger is different.





	Phrasing

Dan has been acting strangely since they ended the radio show last night.

Phil knows a few of Dan’s sour moods. He has learned by now that his face turns neutral when he is feeling the weight of the world. He has learned that Dan goes from shrieking laughter to loud anger in mere seconds when he feels unfulfilled or stressed out. He has learned that after a day of new people and places, Dan gets moody and needs his space to recoup.

This type of anger is different.

It isn’t like the other ones. Those ones are, to Phil, understandable. They’ve had full conversations about them, when Dan feels the need to apologise for his behaviour. Phil has off days and low moods, too, but Dan’s are louder. This one in particular is unnerving the times that Phil sees it.

Dan doesn’t want to isolate himself on days like these. He doesn’t want to punish Phil, in some capacity, as an outlet for his anger. Instead, he follows him around like the tail of a dog.

Phil doesn’t particularly mind. He fancies having Dan beside him on the sofa or in the kitchen with him. What he doesn’t like is that unwarranted weight in every one of Dan’s movements. His touches are robotic, his tone goes off-key. He sits and stews in something that he won’t address himself, and Phil tries to figure out what it is that he could have done to cause Dan to feel this way.

“Who are you texting?” Dan asks in the evening.

They have stayed in their pyjamas all day, like they usually do the day after a radio show. Some tweets here and there, chats about videos, sure, but at least they can stay at home with their pyjamas on to take the edge off the always harrowing task of being streamed live in front of an audience that grows in size for each week that passes.

Phil looks up from his phone and adjusts his glasses where they have slipped down on his nose. Dan cocks one interested eyebrow, glancing at the screen on Phil’s mobile as if he is being subtle about it.

“Not texting,” Phil says with a shrug. “Just wrote down a note.”

“Alright,” Dan says, once again with that weird tone.

It is a particular tone that could fool other people, but Phil knows Dan better than that. He is pretending to be casual, to be fine, to be having a relaxing evening in the lounge with Phil like any other day. None of it comes naturally. Dan is staring at his laptop screen without really looking. He is attentive to every little shift of position from Phil.

Phil laughs, a quiet giggle, incredulous.

“Yeah, I know it’s alright,” Phil says, a tad bit defensive. “What? D’you want to look?”

Dan eyes him, sharp like needles piercing Phil’s skin. Phil can’t help but feel like he is being accused of something, and he can’t figure out for the life of him what it could be about. He loves most versions of Dan. Living closely to someone for a long time, under the amount of pressure they’ve been put under for the entirety of their relationship, is a hard task. Phil shows ugly sides of himself and so does Dan. It ends up in acceptance, and most of the time Phil can learn to love those little sneers and weird reactions. This one, he struggles even to accept.

“Do I want to look at your phone?” Dan asks, voice loud like he is announcing something. “Who do you think I am, Phil? Really?”

It ends on a fake chuckle, a strategic shake of the head. Phil knows when Dan shakes his head at him with affection, and this one is not one of them.

“You’re suspicious of me or something,” Phil says as his patience starts to run out. “I can tell, you know?”

“I’m not,” Dan says immediately, a jerk to his head to look at him and then just as quickly stares back at the laptop screen. “I’m not.”

Slower the second time, as if he is trying to convince himself of that.

Phil moves, sitting a bit closer, and holds up his phone screen to Dan. Dan turns his head away, swatting at the phone, trying to get rid of it.

“No, Phil,” he says. “I’m not going to look at it.”

Phil softens and grabs that jumpy hand.

“Come on, just look,” he pleads.

Dan sighs dramatically, but complies. He looks down at Phil’s notes app. There is a small grocery list, and just below it, _Dan is a weirdo_.

Dan snorts. Phil doesn’t dare to join in yet.

“That’s great, Phil,” he says, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Didn’t know you made notes about me like that to remember at the shops.”

Phil chuckles then, small, asking permission to clear the air of tension.

“I don’t want to forget you’re a weirdo,” Phil says.

Dan looks up at his face. There’s some struggle behind his eyes.

“Who would want a weird boyfriend, though?”

It’s barely voiced. The playful tone dies out in Dan’s frown. He is vulnerable, at the cusp of finally spilling his guts. Phil has to walk this space lightly. One misstep and there could be an argument.

“Hey,” Phil says. “There’s a difference between ‘weird’ and ‘weirdo’.”

Dan’s frown deepens into confusion. Phil tries for a smile.

“I quite like my weirdo,” he finalises.

Dan shakes his head, not completely natural this time either, but it is getting there.

“Don’t think I’m getting the distinction, mate.”

Phil squeezes Dan’s hand.

“Don’t ‘mate’ me,” he grins. “We’re off the radio.”

Dan doesn’t squeeze back, but he doesn’t squirm either. He moves in closer to kiss the side of Phil’s mouth. Soft and small, not asking for anything.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m never off the radio,” Dan says once he pulls back.

Phil gives Dan a look that Dan immediately turns away from. Tonight is not the night to press further, Phil decides. Tonight is about pyjamas and stupid jokes, and going to bed without having to clean up a mess beforehand.

-

It isn’t a mess, not really, but Phil still wakes up from the sound of Dan’s bare feet skating across the carpeted floor of their bedroom. Pacing back and forth, restless, mumbled words coming indecipherable between chapped lips. It used to unnerve Phil the first few times it happened. He still doesn’t understand it, but he has come to accept it.

“Dan?” Phil asks sleepily, not able to go back to sleep while feeling the weight of Dan’s dark clouds.

The pacing stops, and Phil watches the blurry shape of him in the dark turn.

“Did I wake you?” Dan asks, still mumbling.

“Come back to bed,” Phil says instead of answering the question.

He reaches one hand out, palm up. Dan moves closer until his thigh brushes against Phil’s knuckles. Phil simply rubs the back of his hand against the soft hairs.

“Sorry,” Dan says. “I’ll come back to bed.”

Phil nods, eyes closing. When he feels the dip in the mattress beside him, he finally relaxes. He turns, the arm thrown over Dan’s side until Dan settles against his chest. Phil hums, low and breathy, nosing at the hair on the back of Dan’s head.

“You’ve got to sleep,” Phil says, running on borrowed energy, before his consciousness fades away once again.

-

Phil wakes up alone. He half expected to, so he is only half disappointed in the vacancy on Dan’s side of the bed.

They aren’t attached at the hip, as much as they must look like it. They have some friends that they don’t really urge the other to meet, they don’t do everything together, and, some nights, they don’t sleep in the same bed.

The last one is more on Dan terms than it is on Phil’s. Phil isn’t as hurt by it now as he used to be. As much as he would like Dan to really look into the moods that cause him to withdraw and isolate, Phil can’t force him to. Phil can’t know if Dan wanting to sleep alone some nights is even part of it. All he has gathered so far, is that those nights coincide with off-days more often than not.

Phil gets out of bed, takes a shower, and has coffee and cereal. He sits down on the sofa in the lounge, and busies himself with a tv show he doesn’t care to know the outcome of. He has decided not to knock on Dan’s bedroom door yet. He has decided that he doesn’t need to keep his eye on him at every moment of every day. He has decided he shouldn’t worry.

Worry doesn’t work like that.

Worry stays and sits and makes Phil feel queasy until he can’t finish his breakfast. Worry makes his leg jumpy and his focus doubled. Worry tenses up his spine until he has a headache that closed eyes and deep breaths doesn’t bite on.

By two pm, Phil knocks on Dan’s bedroom door.

There is no response. Phil’s worry stabs painfully in his gut. He pushes the door open, running on the adrenaline of an oncoming anxiety attack.

Dan is peacefully asleep under the black and grey checkered duvet. His room is covered in darkness, save from the fairy lights on the headboard. Relaxed and shirtless, mouth open, half snores. Phil’s worry doesn’t fade. It settles in his gut, saved for later.

“Dan,” Phil says.

He approaches the bed slowly, putting great effort into not disturbing whatever version of peace Dan finds in here. Dan hums a whine, eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids as Phil sits down beside him.

It comforts Phil a bit, the fact that Dan stays on his side of the bed even in here. Like they’re two halves of one whole even when they are apart.

Phil kind of hates having a second bedroom.

“Are you ready to wake up?” Phil asks.

Dan grabs his arm then. Heavy and hard, and Phil yelps despite himself as he is dragged down to lie beside that warm sleepy body that he loves so much. The worry churns in his stomach, but Dan smiles before his eyes squint open.

“I want to stay here,” Dan says, somewhere far away.

“Why?”

Phil has to ask. He always asks. Dan has all the words in the world for things that Phil can’t think of a single one for, but this one thing isn’t comprehensible even to him. So, Dan gives the answer he always gives.

“Dunno.” Dan is still smiling. 

A beat as Phil readies his breath to ask another question.

“Stay with me,” Dan whispers.

Phil chuckles, fighting the uproar of instincts to fuss over Dan not unlike Phil’s mother would fuss over him when he was a child.

“Why can’t you stay with me in the lounge?” Phil asks. “With trousers on?”

Dan wiggles playfully beneath the duvet, casting Phil a teasing grin.

“Thought you liked me with my trousers off.”

“Dan,” Phil pleads.

“I will,” Dan says. “I promise. Just now. You, here, please?”

Phil is powerless against the cute smile on Dan’s face and the wandering hands now rubbing over his chest. He wraps an arm around Dan and tucks his face into the crook of his neck.

“Sure,” Phil says.

Dan kisses his head. He rubs Phil over his trousers, breathing hot and moving closer as Phil hardens at the touch. There is something possessive in the hands pushing him down as Dan sits up on top of him, grinding their crotches together. Something less like love, and more like giving into an urge as they remove their clothing.

For Phil, sex is a lot of things. Most of the time it is lust, and love, and fun, and passion. On days like this, it is about the vulnerable helplessness he is still surprised to find within Dan. They aren’t moving in sync, Dan gets ahead of himself, and Phil doesn’t really feel like he is part of it.

Dan still makes sure it feels good, on a physical level. He twists his wrists just so and he kisses and bites in the ways that makes Phil arch his back in pleasure.

Pleasure seems far off in the words Dan grits out at the brink of climax.

“You’re mine, right?” he asks urgently.

Phil takes it all. It is, for some reason, the push Dan needs to move over the edge.

“I’m yours, Dan,” Phil responds between hurried kisses.

They both get there. They both slump, boneless and heavy, some tension gone. Dan still kisses him after, so loving and sweet like always. Perhaps Phil is the one with a clouded mind. Perhaps he is simply projecting his anxiety onto Dan.

Because, eventually, Dan gets out of bed, and things return to normal.

-

Except, normal isn’t really an option for them. In fact, Dan’s changing moods are perhaps the most normal thing about their lives. 

They are doing a lot with the BBC, with YouTube conventions, with collaborations, with interviews. Things are moving non-stop and Phil feels pride flourish in his chest at the growing numbers and the opportunities they get. He is pushing his socially anxious demeanor to the side and coming out the other end more successful than he was before. With Dan beside him, anything is possible. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like Dan is really there.

He reacts quickly, to everything. He is good at keeping the peace and smoothing over awkwardness most of the time. His smile is intoxicating, Phil is well aware of that fact. He is glad to know that so many people seem to see the same thing he sees when they look at Dan.

But then Dan goes on autopilot. Phil has to pick up the slack when it happens. And at those times, it only takes a few seconds of Dan turning into the third wheel of whatever interview they’re doing before his mood sours. Those are the times when he can’t smooth it over, and it becomes Phil’s job instead. Phil struggles with having a normal conversation on a good day, so when half the space in his mind is occupied with trying to figure out what changed to make Dan turn it becomes more than just a struggle.

They come home one evening, when Dan is drunk and Phil is tipsy, coats barely off and front door barely shut, before Dan is on a rant.

“She really doesn’t get it, huh?” he groans, frustrated.

Phil puts his hands on Dan’s shoulders when he struggles to get his coat off. It’s been a good night. Phil has no idea what Dan is on about.

“She doesn’t know that you’re taken,” Dan elaborates once they get to the kitchen.

They sit side by side, backs against the drawers and hands pushed into the same box of cereal.

“What?” Phil laughs. “That was flirting?”

Dan rolls his eyes so hard Phil thinks they’re about to pop out of his skull.

“ _Yes_ , Phil,” he says. “That was obviously flirting.”

Dan pops a handful of shreddies in his mouth, eyeing Phil intensely. He looks so cute Phil has to laugh again. Maybe he is a bit more than tipsy.

“You’re a hamster,” Phil grins, putting his hands on Dan’s cheeks.

He pushes them together and there’s an audible crunch as the cereal breaks in his mouth. Dan swats his hands away, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“Ow,” he complains dramatically. “That hurt.”

He sounds like a five year old with his mouth full of food and his voice pitched high.

“Sorry,” Phil grins. “I couldn’t resist.”

Dan swallows it down and immediately grabs another fistful of cereal. This time he has them one by one. No more cute hamster for Phil.

“I can’t believe you didn’t get that as flirting,” Dan says after a bit of silence.

Phil twists a bit, feeling hot under the collar. Despite being decided on Dan, anyone finding him attractive still feels like praise.

“I was being nice!”

Dan rolls his eyes again.

“That’s what makes you good at flirting, Phil,” he says, looking straight at him. “You don’t even have to try.”

Phil shakes his head.

“People flirt with you all the time,” he says. “And then it’s more guys than girls.”

Phil doesn’t really get jealous when anyone tries something with Dan. As soon as it passes the joking stage, Dan immediately sets his boundaries and removes himself from the situation. Any fears he had in the earlier stages of their relationship have been steadily defeated by Dan’s conviction to keep Phil in his life regardless of what Phil would consider to be better options.

“But you really like to indulge the girls, don’t you?”

Dan doesn’t look at him as he says it. The fire has burned out and there is only Dan, in his wrinkled suit on the kitchen floor taking quiet little nibbles out of his own hand. Phil wraps his hand around Dan’s knee.

“No,” he says. “That’s stupid.”

“Is it?” Dan asks, meeting his gaze. “It makes you feel good.”

Phil can’t deny that, and being under the influence doesn’t help to hide it.

“Just as like, a compliment,” Phil says. “You know, like, that there are people that can be attracted to me.”

He shrugs, unfazed by Dan’s glare that means he wants to convince Phil that plenty of people find him attractive and that he is an idiot for not understanding that.

“Don’t you like it when people do that to you?” Phil asks.

“I don’t care,” Dan says and wipes the crumbs off his hands. “It’s a joke. I only want you to find me attractive.”

It feels important, the way that Dan says it. Like he doesn’t quite believe Phil will always find him attractive. It seems too heavy for a shared box of cereal on the kitchen floor at three in the morning.

“Hm,” Phil says. “Do the hamster face again, then I’ll decide.”

Dan tosses a handful of cereal at him that sticks to his hair. Phil laughs and ducks. Dan sticks his tongue out at him.

-

“It’s a thing now, right?”

Phil leans his head on the back of the sofa, watching Dan as he puts the controller away on the coffee table.

“What’s a thing?” Phil asks.

“The radio show,” Dan elaborates. “You blanking me and me pining after you.”

Phil chuckles.

“Yeah?” he says. “It’s a joke.”

Dan has been quietly playing video games for the better part of the afternoon while Phil has been sitting beside him with his laptop. Phil hadn’t noticed that thoughts like these were what was running through Dan’s mind as he expertly finished course after course on Mario Kart by himself once Phil got motion sick.

“Is it?” Dan says, like he always does, that challenging tone. “There’s truth to every joke.”

“Is there?” Phil asks, mimicking him with a smug smile.

Dan doesn’t smile back, so Phil decides to answer for real.

“That joke is more about me being oblivious than it is about you liking me more.”

“What about you wanting to live with other people and date ladies at the shop?”

Phil would laugh, but nothing about the sadness in Dan’s eyes is funny to him. It is almost uncomfortably open and vulnerable, a part of himself that Dan rarely shows even when it is just the two of them.

“Fuck that.”

Dan’s eyebrows rise, and Phil leans forward to kiss him straight on the mouth. No jittery hands, no softness. His lips are firm on Dan’s, like he is trying to swallow whatever painful lies Dan has been telling himself.

“Phil, seriously,” Dan tries, but Phil kisses him harder.

“It doesn’t matter, Dan,” Phil responds, pulling back. “I want you and no one else.”

Dan bites his bottom lip.

“Have you noticed I only do that with girls?” Phil asks.

“You like girls,” Dan says.

He tilts his head at the end, turning the statement into a question, searching Phil’s eyes. Phil shrugs.

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I don’t think about girls.”

Dan stares at Phil’s lips.

“I think about you,” Phil whispers.

Dan hesitates, his eyes returning to meet Phil’s as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. As much as Phil would like to smother any doubt in Dan’s mind with touches, he decides to retreat. He takes a breath, feeling the undercurrent of want fade as he watches Dan, deep in thought.

“I have a problem with jealousy,” Dan says.

It is a statement, he announces it so clearly, like the words have been on the tip of his tongue for a while.

Phil remembers hearing him say it before, years ago. For some reason, he never considered it in their own relationship. Memories flash behind his eyes, all those little instances of Dan’s smile fading and his mood swiftly turning during a conversation with a third party. Phil frowns. It makes sense, objectively. But Phil is too subjective in this situation to dare look at it from another perspective.

Dan sighs.

“I don’t know,” he says, the assured tone gone. “It’s stupid.”

Phil glances at him, scared to look. He doesn’t know what to say. In some ways, it could be perceived as a compliment. But Dan’s brows are furrowed and his shoulders are tense. Phil doesn’t feel like it has anything to do with their relationship, or with himself, at all.

“You’re not stupid,” Phil says. “You’re scared.”

Dan swallows.

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

Once again, Dan doesn’t have words. Like these feelings haven’t been dealt with enough, like he has to think harder about it to say anything, as if he has to perform some clever self awareness even in front of Phil on a weekday afternoon in their apartment. Maybe it hurts to think about.

For Phil, it hurts to think that Dan doesn’t feel completely comfortable with him.

“Do you really think I’d want to be with anyone else?” Phil asks.

“Yes.”

Dan doesn’t even blink before answering that question. It comes lightning fast, more assured, and he looks straight at Phil but when Phil’s eyes fill with worry Dan looks away.

“Dan,” Phil almost pleads.

Dan shakes his head, the tension between them rises but Dan leans back casually as if to pretend it isn’t there.

“I don’t want to be with me, so I don’t know why you would,” Dan says.

He says it like it is a sure thing. He nods to himself and there is not a single piece of doubt behind his eyes. They have been together for four years, and Dan still listens to these thoughts that Phil turned a deaf ear to after Dan moved to Manchester.

It stings, from somewhere deep inside. Phil takes a breath, feeling it hit him all at once. Dan finally looks back, the casual stance tightening a bit, confusion flickering over his expression.

“You’re not with you, though,” Phil says, collecting himself. “You _are_ you and you’re with me. And _I’m_ me, and I want to be with you. I’d rather you didn’t judge me for that.”

The corner of Dan’s lips stretch hesitantly before he gives in to a full smile.

“If I didn’t know you so well, you would sound insane right now,” Dan chuckles.

“I’m trying to make a point here,” Phil tries, but he doesn’t fight the smile that stretches on his face.

“I don’t think I’m getting it,” Dan teases.

Phil rolls his eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about whether you’d be with you,” Phil says. “You literally can’t be, unless… I mean, I guess--”

Dan snorts.

“Please don’t go on some weird tangent about an article you read.”

Phil feels the tension fade as Dan smiles harder, so bright and young like he does. The conversation still feels important, but now it feels easier.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Phil says.

He puts his hand on Dan’s arm.

“I know,” Dan says.

Phil’s eyebrows rise in question.

“It isn’t logical,” Dan elaborates. “I still know what reality is. Some part of my brain doesn’t like to keep up with reality, though.”

A beat of silence. Dan’s smile fades.

“I trust you, completely.”

A weight lifts from Phil’s shoulders, one he didn’t know he had been carrying.

“I love you,” Phil says.

Dan breathes in hard, his eyes closing as he exhales slowly.

“I love you, too,” Dan says.

They aren’t there yet. But they are somewhere.

It is another mood for Phil to put in his Dan folder and analyse. Perhaps he shouldn’t be the one to analyse them.

For now, Phil leans back in and captures Dan’s lips with his own.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3
> 
> [tumblr post](https://intoapuddle.tumblr.com/post/185393181893/phrasing-m-41k-danphil-tags-2013-jealousy) | likes and reblogs are appreciated!


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